


Day 15 - In a different clothing style

by elessar_undomiel



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge - Johnlock [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sherlock, Face-Fucking, First Kiss, First Time, Insecure Sherlock, M/M, Oral Sex, Rocker!lock, Rockerlock, Tattoo!lock, Top John, Virgin Sherlock, tattoolock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:32:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elessar_undomiel/pseuds/elessar_undomiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A shiver went down his spine when he felt hot breath against his neck and a deep baritone voice behind him. 'Am I supposed to wait for you to make a move for the rest of the night?'<br/>John was pretty sure that anyone in the pub could hear his heart bumping against his ribs."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 15 - In a different clothing style

John tilted the glass, looking at the remainders of golden liquor. He was snapped back to reality by the barmaid, who asked him if he wanted anything more. She had been blatantly flirty for the whole night, and she was quite nice to be honest, but John wasn’t in vein at all. He forced a smile and shook his head. The movement made him catch a glimpse of another customer; God knows what made him more interesting that the others, but John felt the overwhelming need to look him up and down.

He was tall and slender, skin-tight black trousers tucked in a pair of big leather boots, a large white singlet that exposed his prominent collarbones and a hint of his hairless chest and a black leather jacket. A mane of black curls framed one of the strangest and most intriguing faces he had ever seen: pale skin, high cheekbones, full lips with an unreal cupid bow, and magnetic ice blue eyes that were… oh God, that were returning his gaze! Great, he had just been caught staring at a stranger… John blushed furiously and looked away, paying great attention to his glass again. What the hell was wrong with him tonight?

He spent the next two hours trying to resist the urge of looking at the handsome stranger - handsome? Had he really thought “handsome”? God, something was definitely wrong with him tonight! - and failing miserably. He saw him drinking a couple of beers, and the sight of those lips wrapped around the rim of the bottle was so intriguing… No, he wasn’t thinking about them around anything else, absolutely not, and he wasn’t breathing unevenly and above all in no way he was having a hard on. Damn it! What the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn’t gay!

He felt a wave of disappointment when the man stood up to go away, but also a tiny bit of relief: this strange night was over after all.

A shiver went down his spine when he felt hot breath against his neck and a deep baritone voice behind him. “Am I supposed to wait for you to make a move for the rest of the night?”

John was pretty sure that anyone in the pub could hear his heart bumping against his ribs. It took him a while to realise that he wasn’t breathing and, more embarrassingly, he hadn’t answered anything. But how could he answer when his mouth was so utterly dry? He slowly turned around on his stool, and it made the speaking thing even harder - and something else as well, to be honest - because, God help him, that man was even more attractive up close. He tried to answer that he wasn’t gay, but those piercing eyes sucked all the air from his lungs, so he could only mumble an “I… I…” before giving up. Unexpectedly, the man seemed to read his mind. “You’re not gay, I know. You’re bi, though, so we could just skip this boring part, can’t we?” John’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, come on, you already knew it deep down, at least since when you were in the army. You tried to convince yourself it was just a physical need, due to the abstinence, but you enjoyed the shags more than the others. Then you got shot, you came back and you tried to forget it with everything else. I must say that, even though it’s not the cause of your psychosomatic limp, repressing your sexuality won’t help.”

He stopped, as if realising he had talked too much, doubt in his eyes, maybe also a bit of well-concealed fear. God knows what reactions he was used to, but John was even more intrigued, both by the incredible things he had said and by his endearing insecure side. At last, he managed to speak again, his voice hoarse after the long silence. “That… was… amazing! How did you…? Wow!” The stranger looked astonished by his response. “Do you think so?” A wide smile spread on John’s face, and a small, uncertain one arched the other man’s lips. “Of course it was. It was extraordinary! How did you know?” “I didn’t know, I saw. I observed and deduced.” John couldn’t help but whisper again, almost to himself “Wow… amazing!” The other man’s smile widened, wrinkles forming next to his eyes and dimples in his cheeks. He was quite a sight indeed.

“I’m John. In case you hadn’t deduced my name.” John stretched his hand and the man shook it. “Sherlock.”

The physical contact - neither of them left the other’s hand - and the increasingly hot gaze they were exchanging brought them back to their previous issue. Apparently, John had spread his legs at some point, and Sherlock had got nearer, between them; they only noticed it when Sherlock’s thigh brushed agains John’s crotch, making him moan. He widened his eyes and covered his mouth, hoping nobody had heard him. Sherlock seemed quite amused and soon they were giggling like teenagers. Sherlock got serious again, leaned out and whispered in John’s ear “What about going somewhere less crowded and showing me what other noises you can make?” He withdrew, stopping a hand’s width from his face and piercing him with his gaze. His pupils had devoured the pale irises, and John had a hard time keeping from fucking him right there and then. He licked his lips and nodded slowly.

They hurried out of the pub and jumped on a cab. They resisted the urge to kiss, knowing that, if they had surrendered, they wouldn’t have been able to stop, so they spent the whole ride staring at each other hungrily. Luckily, Sherlock’s house was quite close, and in a few minutes they were running up the stairs.

John barely registered he had forgotten his cane at the pub. He glanced down at himself, as if he had time to fix anything by now. Good choice of clothes, he admitted to himself: tight jeans that wrapped his thighs and arse quite flatteringly, a snug t-shirt that displayed his pecs and abs and a jeans waistcoat that exposed his muscular arms. He was quite proud of his body: not too hunky but decidedly well shaped by the years in the army.

His self-check was sharply interrupted by the sight of Sherlock’s perfect arse, wrapped in those tight jeans that didn’t leave much to the imagination. He was trying to insert the key in the door lock, but he seemed a bit too anxious to succeed. John approached from behind, pressed his chest against Sherlock’s back, kissed the back of his neck and reached out his hand to help him with the key.

When the door opened, Sherlock pulled him in, shut it and pushed him back against it, their lips inches apart. John closed the distance, and the kiss was pure bliss. Slow and gentle at the beginning, hungry and dirty when their tongues met. John’s hands roamed around Sherlock’s body, along his chest and his back, and finally settling on his arse, squeezing it and pulling Sherlock closer, making their cocks rub through the fabric. Sherlock threw his head back, exposing his bare neck, and John leaned out and kissed it, and bit it, and licked it, and sucked it, eliciting any kind of noise.

He moved his hands back to Sherlock’s shoulders, under the jacket, and took it off. He saw a tattoo on Sherlock’s right shoulder and arm: a hex pattern, like a beehive, that disappeared under the singlet, and ceased with three stripes around his bicep. He hoped Sherlock would tell him its meaning later. “I like bees. Long story, but yes, I’ll tell you later” Bloody mind reader. “You have one too. Show me.”

John obliged, glad to free himself from some layers: he took off his waistcoat and t-shirt and turned around, to let Sherlock see the Rod of Asclepius along his spine.

Sherlock suddenly pushed him against the door again and sucked his earlobe. John could feel Sherlock’s hard clothed prick pressing on his arse, and rolled back his hips. Sherlock moaned, his mouth still against John’s ear: it was the most arousing noise John had ever heard. But before he could do it again, he felt Sherlock sliding down ever so slowly, kissing every spinal bone and sliding his hands along John’s sides. Finally, he got to his knees, grabbed John’s hips and turned him around. God, what a sight. Sherlock was almost completely dressed, but his toned arms were bare and his trousers couldn’t hide his boner; his hair was a mess, his lips swollen and parted, his eyes darkened by lust. Sherlock unbuttoned John’s trousers and slid them to his ankles. Looking up through his eyelashes, he licked and sucked John’s shaft through his pants, making him pant and whimper. Then he grabbed the elastic band with his teeth - and John almost came because God, he was so fucking sexy - and pulled them down, finally freeing John’s aching cock.

He licked his length again, and then immediately took it in his mouth. The feeling was so overwhelming that John couldn’t help but grab Sherlock’s hair with a hand and thrust his hips. Sherlock chocked when the head hit the back of his throat, and John swiftly pulled out, blushing and rambling apologies. But Sherlock smirked mischievously, grabbed both of John’s hands and placed them on his head, and wrapped his lips around the tip again. John was shocked by the eroticism of what was happening, and tentatively thrusted his hips again. Sherlock moved his hands on John’s again and made him clench his fists, then placed them back on John’s thighs. When John pulled his hair, Sherlock’s moan vibrated around John’s prick; he couldn’t hold on any more and started fucking Sherlock’s mouth, rolling his hips and gripping his hair to hold him in place, crying in pleasure every time that Sherlock tongued his tip.

When he felt he was too close he pulled out and grabbed the base of his cock: he didn’t want to get off this way. It wasn’t just a quickie, not for him. “Wait… I want… together…” He helped Sherlock up and kissed him, tasting his own precum in his mouth. He got rid of his boots, trousers and pants, that were still at his ankles, never interrupting the kiss. Sherlock seemed pleasantly astonished by John’s wish, and pulled him to the bedroom.

John slid his hands under Sherlock’s singlet and eagerly took it off. He took a moment admiring his marmoreal chest, his slightly defined abs and the trail of dark hair that disappeared into his trousers, then gently pushed him onto the bed and climbed on its edge. He kissed the side of his mouth, then moved to his jawline and down his neck. He licked his collarbone and sucked his left nipple, slightly pinching the right one with his fingers. Beneath him, Sherlock was arching his spine and whining, and thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for some friction. John shifted downwards and rubbed his face on Sherlock’s clothed crotch, inhaling his intense scent, intoxicated by his moans. He unbuttoned his jeans and freed his throbbing cock. He teasingly licked the precum that was leaking from the tip, making Sherlock gasp, and then took off his trousers and pants, somehow managing to free him of those giant boots.

Sherlock was evidently quite self conscious now that he was totally naked, a doubtful expression on his face and his hands trying to cover his nakedness. John smiled fondly and rose to kiss him gently. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, you know?” He looked into Sherlock’s eyes, trying to reassure him, and stroke a curl away from his forehead. “God, do you have an idea of how perfect you are?”

He moved to kiss his neck; when he felt Sherlock relaxing he moved downwards, taking his time. When he reached his groin again, Sherlock’s legs were shamelessly spread. He kissed his length, then wrapped his lips around the head and sucked. Sherlock cried out his name, and by God he had never thought it could be said in such a sweet yet naughty way. He went down the shaft, burying his nose in the black curls, and then moved back sucking, and then again.

“John… John wait…” John immediately pulled back and looked up at Sherlock, concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong honey?” Sherlock’s eyes widened and he stuttered, appalled by the endearment. “No it… it’s just… I… I wanted… If you…” then he gave up on words, opened the drawer of the bedside table and grabbed a bottle of lube and a condom. John looked at him lovingly “Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, we can do it another time” Sherlock smiled happily at the assumption of future encounters “No, I want it. I mean, only if you want it too…” As an answer, John smiled, kissed him and pushed him down onto the mattress. “How do you want it?” “Fuck me” Sherlock blurted out, then he blushed and looked away “I just… I’ve never done this before so tell me what to do.”

John stroke his cheek. “Ok. Just relax sweetheart.” Sherlock smiled comforted. John moved between his legs and took him in his mouth to distract him while a lubed finger circled his hole and slowly pushed it. He took his time to prepare him carefully; after a few minutes, Sherlock was moaning loud and pushing against his hand, three fingers thrusting in his arsehole and brushing against his prostate, and begging for more. John withdrew his hand, earning a disappointed whimper from Sherlock. As fast as he could he put on a condom, covered it with lube and aligned his tip to Sherlock’s hole. “Stop me if it hurts” He slowly pushed in, and then gave him time to adjust. When Sherlock asked him to move, he began to rock his hips, tentatively at first, then harder and faster. He placed Sherlock’s leg on his shoulder to get deeper, and he was rewarded by a loud cry. Sherlock’s nails scratched his back, his moans filled his ears, his hips met his thrusts. “God, Sherlock, you’re amazing…” he whispered, pounding his prostate as hard as he could “You’re so beautiful… and tight… Christ, you’re perfect” He kept on talking: it wasn’t easy when he was so close, but Sherlock seemed to like it, alternately breathing out John’s name and moaning.

After a particularly well directed thrust, Sherlock came, moaning, spilling between their bellies and clenching around John’s cock. That was more that enough for John to come as well, screaming in the crook of Sherlock’s neck.

They caught their breath for a few seconds, then John kissed Sherlock’s lips sweetly and pulled out. He moved from atop Sherlock and got up. Catching Sherlock’s disappointed and sad gaze he laughed and leaned out to kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m not going away honey, I just want to clean you up.” Sherlock smiled relieved “Oh, yeah, sure… thank you” John went to the bathroom he had glimpsed on their way to the bedroom, threw the condom in the rubbish bin and wet a towel. He went back to the room, cleaned the mess on their bellies and climbed on the bed next to Sherlock, who immediately curled up at his side. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed his forehead. “Sleep now, sweetheart… I’ll stay here if… if it’s ok for you.” The only answer was a tightened grip around his waist and a leg intertwined with his own.

Caressing Sherlock’s side to lull him into sleep, John recalled his own deductions about the night. Evidently, Sherlock had never been treated as he deserved. He had used and had been used, but there had never been real intimacy: nobody had been gentle, nobody had wanted to come with him, nobody had seen him completely naked, nobody had told him he was beautiful, nobody had used endearments. Nobody had loved him. But never mind now, John was certainly on track for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it ^.^  
> Day 17 can be considered a sequel of this fic, set a couple of years later :)
> 
> xx


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